Behind the Music
by Mad Cow
Summary: "Playing all night long, Boy, turn on up the sound...if you don't like our music, don't bother to come around..." -From 'Cotton Eyed Joe Boil Them Cabbage Down' as played by Barry Van Wie


Behind the Music, Ch1 _Well, first I have to thank my awesome BETA reader, Rozbabe, who really knows how to take a hint ("Hey Rozz...I'm just writing a fic...I'm looking for a BETA reader...*innocent grin*") Muchos thankies, Babe! Thanks to Arcadia as well, for reading and ego-boosting! *grin* I owe ya. :)  
Also, to really enjoy this fic, I suggest you download some music. This fic was written to the tune of Bluegrass, and to get the maximum potential out of the story, go dig some Bluegrass up.You don't need it now, but as I get further into the fic, it would really help if you downloaded some...I really suggest Barry Van Wie (www.barryvanwie.com), because this fic was inspired as I was listening to his version of "Rocky Top Tenessee" for, oh, about the millionth time ;) I'll post more recomendations later. :)_  
_  
2001_  
Jamie checked his watch as he hurried into the station. He was 30 minutes late, but it wasn't his fault. He had had an accident on his bike a few days before, and had to bum a ride off of Caitie. He would have tried getting a ride with someone on his squad, but apparently they all left an hour before they went on shift. By the time he had persuaded Caitie to drive him, he was already late, and then traffic further delayed him...  
"-can't find anyone, we could ask Jamie," He heard Hank say as he entered the main room. Jamie cursed under his breath when he saw all of the EMTs from all of the shifts gathered and realized that he was missing some important. Some meeting or something, though he couldn't remember what it was about.  
"What am I being volunteered for?" He asked.  
"You're late," Alex reprimanded.   
Jamie ran his hand through his spiked hair. "My bike's in the shop, and I couldn't get a ride. So, like I said, what am I being volunteered for?"  
"We're planning for our annual fundraiser," replied a guy Jamie vaguely recognized as the senior EMT of one of the other squads. "And we're holding a fair type of thing, so we were thinking about finding up someone to do live music-"  
"And I knew you played a pretty mean guitar, so I thought if we couldn't find someone else, maybe you could do it," Hank finished.  
Jamie was a little ticked at being volunteered to do something, but at the same time, pleased that someone not only noticed that he played, but also that he played well. "Yeah, I'll do it. But I don't play alone, I'm part of a duet."  
"That's no problem," Alex said. "Just make sure everything you play is clean."  
_  
1988 _  
A 4-year old Caitie Roth walked into her first day of guitar class, case in hand. Though she was very young, her father directed the orchestra at the local college, and wanted his daughter to be just as talented as the young musicians who he instructed.  
She sat in a blue plastic chair and waited for class to start. A quick look around made Caitie realize that she was the youngest kid in the class. Everyone else was 7 or 8. A few moments before the blonde woman sitting on a chair at the head of the room began to speak, a boy ran into the room and slid into the only chair left--the chair to the left of Caitie.   
"Hi," He whispered. "What's your name?"  
"Caitie. What's yours?"  
"Jamie."  
"Hi."  
"Hi."  
Just then, the blonde lady stood up. "Hello, class. I'm Mrs. Baise, and I'm going to be your teacher. Has anyone here done anything with music before?"  
"I sing," Jamie volunteered quietly.  
Mrs. Baise smiled a forced smile. "Please raise your hand next time. Now class, if you all pick up your guitars, we'll begin by learning how to hold one."  
An hour and a half later, Caitie ran out of the building to meet her father. She found him talking to a lady. She ran up to him and grabbed his hand.  
"Hi, Daddy!" She greeted.   
"Hey, Sweetie," He replied. "How was class?"  
"Mrs. Baise is mean, but class is fun."  
"That's good," answered her father. The he motioned to the woman. "This is Dr. Waite. She directs the choir at the same college I work at. Her son is in your guitar class."  
Caitie smiled shyly. She watched as Jamie came bounding out of the classroom. He ran up to Dr. Waite. "Hi, Mom."  
"Hi, Jamie!" Caitie said.  
"Hi, Caitie!" He replied back.  
Caitie's father smiled. "I see our children are already friends."  
Jamie's mother returned the smile. "Well, since they're already friends, maybe they should play together. Jamie hasn't started school yet, so he doesn't have many friends his age. In fact, I promised Jamie ice cream after his lesson. Would you like to come along, Caitie?"  
"Daddy, can I?"  
"Sure, sweetie," Then he turned to the elder Waite. "Amanda, let me give you my address and phone number." A few minutes later, after information was exchanged, Caitie found herself sitting in the back-seat of the Waite family car.   
At the Baskin-Robbin's located a block from where class was held, they ordered their ice cream; with Jamie ordering an interesting concoction that contained pistachio ice cream, chocolate, whipped cream, pineapple cream, strawberries, almonds, and who knows what else, while Caitie ordered a much more sensible ice cream containing vanilla with M&M toppings. They sat there for almost an hour, eating their ice cream.  
Little did the young pair know, but they had just set in motion a tradition that would span over a decade...  



End file.
